A Fallen Rose revised version
by Rose Diamund
Summary: Erik. A pitiful creature, once again hidden in the shadows of the Opera Populaire, all his hopes shattered within his battered soul. But Meg Giry soon comes to him, and finds herself falling desperately in love with him. But what will happen when Christine returns? When secrets are uncovered? When everything and everyone becomes unhinged? Who would you choose? E/C or E/M.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters. That belongs to Gaston Leroux.

**Author's Note: **Well this is going to be an adventure. The prologue is identical to the original draft, which is why I am updating this with chapter 1. Like I said in my author's note for the original draft I am using the same main plot. Where Meg is in love with Erik, but Christine comes back - I _might _make Erik and Meg have a child as I did in the original, but I am not sure. There will be some twists, some things taken off... but you will be able to see the same plot underneath it all.

The rating is T for now, but it may change later. The reason I rated it T in the first place was because it was my first story, and I was a bit too shy at first. So... I don't know. T for now. Whatever suits my plot better.

This story will have changing point of views (POVs). I thought it would give it a different perspective to the story, and perhaps make it more interesting. Please review and tell me what you think.

Without further ado, I give to the prologue and first chapter of the re-written 'A Fallen Rose'.

_{Rose Diamund}_

* * *

_**Prologue -**_

Meg Giry turned the corner, anticipating the moment when she would finally reach the lair. Lately, she hardly ever went down there. Not for months. It was all because of what had happened three moths ago…

Erik would see no one. And until about a month after Christine left, Meg didn't even know he was still alive.

But she had received a letter from him, with his handwriting and his seal. The red skull, grinning madly with malice and a terrifying amusement.

Meg's long blonde hair swished from side to side and she walked swiftly towards what had recently been Christine's dressing room. She stepped in and immediately shuddered at the flood of memories that came to her. This room she had come to, to seek warmth and understanding from one as kind and perfect as Christine, but now it was dark. All the flowers in the un-washed vases were dead and dropping. It was silent as a cemetery at night, and the windows were covered with black curtain. The bed was messy and unmade, and on the floor right next to the mirror laid a single red rose. A black ribbon tied around the stem. The rose was big and blooming, undying, unlike the rest of the flowers. The room was cold and black, and Meg felt entangled suddenly in a twirl of veiled mist.

Meg shakily walked up to the mirror; she slid the frame of it to the left and stepped inside. The long hallway that followed was engulfed with spider's webs and rats.

Meg walked down the narrow corridor and soon came to some stone stairs. She sprinted down, until she got to the lake.

Upon the lake there was a boat tied to a post. Meg got in and picked up the two oars, she rowed for a bit, until she saw the steel gate.

Like magic, just as Meg approached the gate it started to lift. Meg pulled the oars, forcing her way under the rising gate.

And there it was.

Erik's lair.

Filled with lit candles at least knee high, some rising above her head.

Meg saw the piano perched on the side of the lair.

Meg stopped rowing and let herself slowly drift the shore, then stepped out of the un-docked boat.

She couldn't see Erik anywhere in sight, but she did see his mask. His white half-mask that he always wore.

She walked around the other side, soon she saw Erik, sitting in front of his music box, with the statue of a monkey on top.

Erik's face was showing, since the mask did not cover it. His small bumps and scars cut deep into the left side of his face. And there was some dried blood on his face, which meant he had been picking at the scars- a tell he was upset. The blood washed over part of the one half of his face in a crimson blur.

"Erik," Meg whispered softly.

Erik looked up; his green eyes penetrating, "You came."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Meg smiled briefly, "I have not seen you in months Erik, and I miss you."

Erik shook his head, "But… after all I have done… These last few months I have not been myself, Meg. I have let love come into my mind and let it destroy my soul. I am a murderer, Meg, considered a madman."

"But I know better. You are a genius, I admire you still as much as I always have."

"I dropped the body of Joseph Bouquet onstage during a performance," Erik spat bitterly, "Only a fool, a madman- a _monster_ would do that."

"You have given flowers to his grave, you have begged God in the chapel for forgiveness- at the risk of being seen. You have proved that you repented, that is all you need to do."

Erik sneered, "It is not enough. Meg, I fear for you and your mother. You both should leave me now, never return."

Meg was irritated now, "And leave you to rot? You know us better; you know we cannot leave you. Not now, nor ever. We will stand by you no matter the price we must pay."

"You speak bravely, but only for yourself. I had sent your mother a letter, telling her to come and see me only three days ago, and she never came." Erik hissed.

Meg laughed in irritation, "Erik, you cannot tell me to go away. I will stand next to you no matter what."

Erik lowered his head, "I know. I'm sorry. I just… everything that's been happening…"

Meg smiled, "I understand, it has been difficult for you. Christine was my best friend… and then Raoul came-"

"You don't need to remind me."

"Right. Sorry."

Erik picked up a long object. It was a rose, wrapped in a purple ribbon. Erik put it towards Meg, "A gift for you."

"Don't you usually put black ribbon?"

"That was for…"

"Christine." Meg finished sourly.

Erik flustered, "I'm sorry."

Meg smiled; she shook her head; "It's beautiful."

Erik said nothing; he just smiled his own sad smile.

"I should probably be going." Meg said after a while.

"Yes, goodbye, then."

"Goodbye. Remember, if you need anything, just come and get me." Meg reminded.

Erik nodded, "Of course."

So, Meg left, leaving Erik to his silence.


	2. Never Forget Me

_**CHAPTER 1 – Never Forget Me**_

*** Christine's POV ***

Morning came far too quickly for me. I awoke with a start, and it took me a moment to remember where I was. I blinked a few times, my eyes slowly beginning to adjust to the bright sunlight that streamed through the window. I yawned and stretched, sitting up.

I looked about my elegant hotel room, feeling that sweet sensation of warmth as I did. Then the feeling was gone as my eyes found a door connecting to my room; the door that lead to Raoul's bedchambers. I knew he'd still be sleeping. I kept my eyes on the door and thought.

Raoul DeChagney was my fiancé, and Vicomte, and a man I had known – and loved – for most of my young life. But still… something was missing.

Something, being my Angel.

I had never learned his name. Never really taken off the mask of secrecy he wore – of course, I'd taken off his real mask. And that was when it had all gone wrong. I had been so happy up until that moment, to at last see my Angel. To feel his body melting into mine. At last I had felt completely serene, but then when I awoke in his bed, I saw him at his organ. All my sensible thoughts were cast away, and curiosity took its place. I had ripped off his mask, and he had pushed my to the cold, damp floor, screaming at me. Making me cringe.

I could still see the anger in his face. The utter horror as my fingers wrapped underneath the edges and just pulled off that white half mask. It had haunted my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.

Everything of him had stayed with me, since that time onstage when I really saw his face. When I saw why he had been hiding in the shadows. His distortion was more than a few burn marks, as I had imagined. Oh no, half of his face was pitted and marred, with scars and scratches everywhere, as if his flesh had slowly been eaten away, being torn and cut in all areas. His teeth had been barred, but I had seen a flash of grief cut in his beautiful smoky green eyes, but it had been gone almost the moment it appeared, and he cut the red rope just beside him, sending us down to his lair, and the chandelier down upon the audience.

A shiver went up my spine, and I snapped back to reality when I heard a door squeak. Raoul entered my room, grinning, "Good morning, Christine," He said cheerfully, sitting across from my on my large bed.

I mustered a small smile, staring at the gold-colored sheets, "Good morning Raoul."

Raoul touched my hand, and I drew in a breath, "Are you well today? You just said you felt ill yesterday – "

"Yes, Raoul. I am quite well this morning," I said, rising from the bed. I walked toward my large trunk, holding all my clothes. Without looking back at Raoul, I said to him, "I must change. If you would not mind…"

Raoul rose, "Yes, of course." He walked over to me and placed both his hands on either of my shoulders. He placed a small kiss on my lips, "I love you Christine," He said, pressing his forehead against mine.

I smiled, truthfully this time, and kiss him lightly, "I love you, too Raoul." I hit his upper arm lightly, "Now, go." I said with a smile, "I told I must change."

Raoul grinned, "Very well. Come in when you are done, I will take you out for breakfast. I'll have my carriage ready as soon as you are, Little Lotte." And with that, he left the room.

My heart stopped when he said that nickname, and I closed my eyes, sorrow seeping through me. But I advanced toward my trunk, picking out an off-white dress before changing.

*** Erik's POV ***

It was like she was there. I could feel her presence so strongly. Her beautifully youthful face was burned into my memory, her sweet perfume, the tragic beauty of her shimmering tears. Everything of her I could remember with ease.

I pressed on the back of my neck, where it ached. But then, each part of my battered soul – my cold, black heart ached. I supposed I deserved it. With only her on my mind, I pressed the few keys I had written out on my sheet music on my organ, which I sat in front of. I sung the bit that I had written:

"_The day starts… the day ends… time crawls by…_

_Night steals in… pacing the floor…_

_The moments creep, yet I can't bear to sleep… 'till I hear you sing - "_

I let out a frustrated groan, crossing out the words, "No, damn it." I covered my face, lyrics and phrases whirling through my mind. But none of them strong enough. Nothing could ever put into words what I felt. Nothing could put into words what she meant to me.

My darling Christine.

But at the same time, I felt tears spring to my eyes. She was gone. She had never loved me – how could I ever be so foolish as to think she would? She was like all the others! All of them who had turned away in fear and insolence, hating me as my mother had. And finally, the only person who could completely had broken what was left of my now empty heart.

But from what I had learned of the world, that was all love was. An overpowering feeling, that beat in your mind, your heart until you listened to it. I'd listened to it. I'd allowed myself to be shunned again. Hidden back in the shadows. Forgotten. Just as I had all those years ago, in my youth.

I had let my barriers down. The worst mistake I knew I could make. But I had kept telling myself that she would understand! That she could love me. What had I been thinking? No one could ever… ever love me. "No," I whispered miserably, "Not this face." My fingers ran over the smooth surface of my half mask, tears blurring my vision for a moment. But I quickly took of my mask to wipe the tears away, before returning it to my face.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to get myself in order. I closed my eyes, remembering her face. Her eyes. Her touch. Every part of her, so vividly came to my mind, as if she were standing in front of me. How I loved her. My eyes opened, and my lip curled in disgust and self-hatred.

But she would never love me. I was condemned to the shadows again. I was the same cold, hated, broken man I had always been. Only now, I was even colder. I was shot into the blackness that was once my home, and which I had briefly escaped from. But only briefly. Now…

The darkness was here to stay.


	3. Hauntings

_****_**A/N: **I am sssooo sorry for the short chapter! I just couldn't think of anything else to do with this chapter... but I am already typing chapter 3 and it is already 3 pages without being finished yet... Also, this chapter is pretty creepy. After re-reading it a few times before sending it to my lovely beta **nibblesfan **(thanks for all your help, Katie!) I realized this chapter was pretty chilling. And no, not all chapters will be like this. Christine had a nightmare. So I made it very nightmare-ish. Next chapter isn't happy exactly, but it's not creepy in any sense of the word. So please do not complain - the whole point of the chapter was to illustrate Christine's fears and how her mind is always on Erik. Please review and tell me what you thought! Also, I have still not decided whether this will be an E/C or E/M story. It's all up to you, my readers. So if you have an opinion, share it! And in this story it will seem like it can go both ways... Anywho, enjoy the chapter and review.

_{Rose Diamund}_

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_**CHAPTER TWO – Hauntings **_

*** Christine's POV ***

"How did you sleep, love?" Raoul asked me from across the large dinner table, before sipping his water. His blue eyes watched me intensely, and I could not help but shift a bit uncomfortably.

"Well," I said, and obviously that had been false. My night had been tortured; I had awoken again and again, from horrors about my Angel. Only him. "You sleep well, I trust?"

Raoul smiled, not speaking for the food in his mouth, but he nodded.

My gaze lingered to the lace tablecloth, and held as I thought of the night before. My dream – my most frightening – still ringing clearly in my mind, as if I had seen it just before my eyes – and in a way, I supposed I had.

_I had been in his lair… Underneath the water of the lake. I was hidden by the dark, murky water, my hair floating and falling about me. And I stared up through the water, staring at my Angel. Watching him from underneath the blurry waters, my vision unfocused. _

_I could see him, screaming out a song – the song he had sung to me in that moment of utter bliss. That moment that all the world fell away, and it was only my Angel and I, our bodies close together in a moment of heated desire, and complete serenity. Only now, he was wracked with sobs. He smashed his mirrors in, and I saw a brief, blurry reflection of his horrifying deformity._

_He came to the last mirror, screaming out these last words that rung and echoed in my mind forever "It's over now! The Music of the Night!" He smashed the last mirror into pieces, crimson liquid suddenly taking over my vision. _

_It was blood, blood seeping into my eyes. His blood, staining my vision, clouding my thoughts. Filling in me. Oh, God. Oh, God. _

_My lungs began to burn, underneath the water, and all I could see was crimson. I tried with all my might to push up, my whole body screaming for air. But I couldn't move. I was trapped under the water. _

_I could see him now. About to enter the mirror – Oh God – down a long, black corridor. The flame in my chest burst and doubled, pain searing my throat. _

_He took a step. _

_Time seemed to slow. I could not move from my place underneath the water… and suddenly, it was cold. The water was blacker, and it turned frigid. I could feel my fingertips and toes turn blue, and I began to shake with cold. _

_Air. God, I needed air. I couldn't breathe. I was dying. _

_Just like I had killed my Angel. _

"_Angel!" I heard my own scream, although I was still trapped beneath the water, my throat burning and my body shaking. "Come back! Help me!"_

_The drape closed. He was gone. _

"_Angel!" I screamed again. _

_And then I began to choke, ragged breaths coming from my throat as I inhaled water, as if my body was controlling me. Where I had breathed, not a cloud of crimson was. I was breathing blood… _

_And he was there, under the water with me. A cold, evil smile upon his face, and he watched me cry in agony. "Die the horrible death I died," His ghostlike voice echoed through the water. _

"_Please…" I choked. _

_He only smiled again. That smile filled with malice. His green eyes sparkled with a triumphant gleam. _

_And then, he was gone. _

"_NO!" I cried again, water burst into my mouth, making me gag and choke. "NO! COME BACK! PLEASE!" My vision blurred, crimson clouds all around me, breathing into me. _

_Blackness._

I had woken then, tears already in my eyes. But it didn't go away. It stayed with me. The dream playing again and again in my mind so clearly – _too _clearly. I would never forget it.

It haunted me.


	4. Unrequited

**A/N: **I'm back! This chapter wasn't as long as I intended it to be. It was almost 4 pages. Sorry :/. And that's a really bad cliffhanger at the end. I hope you'll read on anyway. And a huge thanks to **nibblesfan. **Please review :)

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the bit of a song Christine sings. That is 'In His Eyes' from 'Jekyll and Hyde', which belongs to Frank Wildhorn...

_{Rose Diamund}_

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_**CHAPTER THREE – Unrequited**_

_***Erik's POV ***_

I could hear her. Her voice rang through my mind, vibrating in my darkened soul. God help me, I could hear her unearthly voice – so filled with light and beauty. I could see her face, her soft, white skin and tumbling dark curls. Her infatuating light brown eyes, shining with hope and innocence.

I could remember that day – that moment when she had sung to me softly, her cheeks caked with tears, but her voice sounding more heavenly than ever as she had slowly advanced toward me. As she had slid that diamond ring onto her finger, her voice rising and she had taken my abhorrent distortion in her hand, caressing it in her warm palm. Not even a flash of fear was written in her eyes as she lifted her lips to mine.

And that one kiss had been my undoing. I had sobbed, uncontrollably. God, she was so beautiful. Such an Angel, who I had trapped in the gateways of Hell, nearly forcing her inside.

Nearly forcing her to my fate.

Even in the small fact that I dared to even love such a tender creature proved to me that I was more of a beast than anyone had ever called me. I knew in that moment, that I must have come eye-to-eye with Satan himself, and had been spit upon by even him. I was the monster, the Phantom of the Opera, who had destroyed so many lives, shattered so many souls. And it was all to win the heart of someone who never would see beyond my distortion.

Just as no one else had.

I looked about my lair, candles the only light. And still, did not stop the casting shadows in more than half of my lair. I watched the flames dance, watched the candles burn with conviction. I was surrounded by blackness, with only a single spark of light.

But now that light was gone.

One-by-one, I blew out all the candles, until my lair was completely dark. I was enveloped in utter darkness and silence, the cold slowly settling in.

***Meg's POV ***

I shivered and pulled the covers closer around my shoulders. I saw a few goose pimples on my arm, which my head was resting on. My straight, blonde hair tumbled and feel in front of my eyes. I tossed it out of my face, and shifted in my bed a bit, so that I was staring up at the ceiling. I tried to close my eyes, to sleep, but I couldn't seem to. One single thought kept making my eyes pop open, despite my utter sleepiness.

_Erik._

His name almost came to my lips, but I bit my lower lip, for fear of waking any of the other chorus girls. I heard a few soft snores of the girls, and a few shifted about in their beds in their sleep. But otherwise it was completely silent.

I sighed, shifting around a bit more. I could not get my mind off of him. He was so beautiful. Not only in his features – oh no, but in his mind. In his music. He was a genius, a beautiful man down to his core.

But he would never realize that.

No, he hated himself. He believed that he belonged in the darkness; but I knew better. I knew that beneath all the coldness, all the bloodshed, Erik was a good man. A man who deserved more than the life he was condemned to. But he would never know I felt that way.

He was far too busy, sobbing over Christine. She had been my best friend, and still at the same time I hated her. To destroy such a gentle man without a second thought, it made me burn so.

A stray, hot tear rolled down my cheek, and I let it fall down slowly. I longed so to run to Erik, to hold him, to tell him all that I needed to. But no. It was not possible.

Not anymore.

***Christine's POV ***

Snow glided down from the onyx night sky, falling onto my lashes and in my hair. I shivered a bit; the cold was overwhelming. But I stared down at the dimly lit streets from the roof of my hotel building. Perhaps I was foolish to be up here – it was much taller than the Opera – but it calmed me a bit. Staring down at the world, I could have watched forever. _Watched the world, without being a part of it… _I thought, biting my lips to force back tears. _That's what Angel's done all these years, hasn't he? _

I wiped my eyes with my gloved hand. God, it was cold out here. But despite the freezing snow that was a bit under a foot high, I sat down on the roof. I watched the streets below, but then I moved my gaze to the sky. Slowly, gently, I lied back, until my back was up against the frigid snow, and my face was to the sky.

The stars twinkled dimly, little diamonds barely lighting the dark. Only a sliver of beauty amongst the fear. I thought of my Angel. And I wondered about him. What was he doing now? Did he think of me often? A tear slid down my face, of course he thought of me. I had destroyed him. Broken him.

A tear slid down my cheek. It blurred my vision for a moment, but I wiped it away. I felt the cold night air nip at my bare skin; my face and my ankles, since my nightdress had slid up a bit. My fingertips were freezing, but I just kept staring at the sky. Just looking at that beautiful sky.

And then I began to sing. My eyes watered with tears as I did, but I never moved my eyes from the sky.

"_Love… is worth forgiving for…_

_Now I realize…_

_Everything worth living for… Is there…._

_In his eyes…"_

I bit my lip, my vision blurring and clearing as teas poured from my eyes.

"_If… I'm wise… I will walk away…_

_And gladly…"_

My voice cracked with almost every word now, and I held back sobs in my throat.

"_But sadly… I'm not… wise…_

_It's hard to talk away… the memories… that you prize…"_

I could nearly see him now, calling to me, holding his gloved hand out to me, whispering my name. When I had taken his hand I had felt a rush of heat. His fingers had entwined with mine as he lead me down, down, down, to his lair.

"_Love is worth forgiving for… Now I realize…"_

God. Everything slowly began to make sense. Why I had ever met him. Why I had ever been so mesmerized by him. It all became clear. I sat upright, the chill of the air seemed to disappear.

"_Everything worth living for… is there…_

_In his eyes!"_


End file.
